Inside The Pages
by Violet911
Summary: The day Gabrielle bought an ordinary book was the day she discovers all of the secrets hidden from her since birth. Join Gabby and her trainers in a quest to find truth about each of her parents' side of the family.
1. Chapter 1: Books and Drama

**A/N: This is a The 39 Clues/PJatO Crossover.**

**The setting in this chapter is in The 39 Clues world.**

**The Greek Gods does not exist there but the Cahills exist in any world.**

** I do not own anything you have seen or read in real life. That's all!**

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**Chapter 1: Books and Drama**

Dull, grey and dreary. The afternoon rain reflected my mood. But my mother's magnificent voice drowned the "tip-tap" sounds on my bedroom window, reading aloud the book I bought on a day just like this, raining. That was the day where all my troubles started, where my story starts.

I spotted the book in a tiny corner of the book shop, which is beside our apartment. When I took out the book, I gazed upon its design. The book cover was red with golden sides and corners; in the front was a frame with things coming out of it like a fairy, a lizard, showers of gold, a key and some hands; also in the background there was a castle. I never saw anything like it. It was the first book of a trilogy, my mother said though she didn't seem too happy I took it out its dusty shelf.

Odd. That was the only word in my head.

My mother and I were like twins, hypothetically speaking, we think alike. We both like the same music, the same food, the same TV shows. Heck, we go out in public with the same outfit: A grey hooded jacket with faded jeans, our signature style. Most importantly, we love books. When my eye lands on an unknown book that I "feel" has good story, wallet at hand, my mother rushes to the counter in a heartbeat. But now she hesitated, it was clear in her brown eyes when she first glanced on its crimson cover. I wonder what kind of grudge she has against this book, she rarely has one. I studied her but her face showed no emotion to me, which again I stamped odd, because my mother was an open book. She never hid a secret from me. Now, I'm doubtful about that belief.

"Mom, what's the title of this book?" I asked without looking her way. If wondering why I am asking this ridiculous question, I can't read English. A better term for this is dyslexic. Then why do I like books? It's because my mother reads them to me.

"It's called _Inkheart_, Gabby," she said while pinching my cheek. I smiled a bit and frowned once more. My mother calls me 'Gabby' when I can't have something. I hugged the book tightly.

"Mom, could I buy it?" I pleaded, "Please, you rarely buy books. I always have to borrow them from the library. Can't I just have this one? I never saw it before. It must be very old, judging by the looks of it. Oh please, could I buy?" I gave one of my famous puppy-eyed looks. It always worked on my relatives when I ask them presents during their visits. But she's resisting, just giving me a blank face.

And then she gave me a warm smile, still eyeing the book. "Alright, but that book is coming out of your allowance."

"That's okay. I don't eat at school anyway," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you say, Gab?"

"Nothing," I said warily, forgetting her mother has supersonic ears like bats. She glanced at her wristwatch.

"Here," she said, rummaging through her handbag. She took out 50 dollars and the spare key to our apartment.

"Use this to buy the book. I'm meeting some people at Starbucks, and then we'll talk about something important in the apartment later. Okay?" She kissed me and left me with a pink lipstick mark in my forehead, rusty key and unsupervised cash. My mom is awesome.

As I watched her walk out the door, I wondered what we are going to talk about. Was it about the book? Or the people she's going to meet? Or is it about the moldy lasagna with rats she found under her bed last week, for no apparent reason what so ever point to me? I'm betting on third choice. She's been complaining about it since the rats invaded her shower cap.

_Oh well_, I thought, _guess should buy the book now._

The counter was, for the populace with high vocabulary: crass, for the public with regular vocabulary: disgusting, for the people with low vocabulary: gross, and for the dweebs with under developed heads: _Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!_ There was colored gum on the side of the cashier. The oldest gum was the dirty blue one with a dead spider and a lizard's leg and the newest one was the wet purple one with taco-smell saliva. Don't ask how I know. The cashier table was filled with junk food and candy wrappers. And the monster that made the mess was sleeping with the garbage.

It was a teenage girl with auburn hair. That's all I could describe her because she was sleeping face down. I was tempted not to wake her up but I had to buy the book. I was running through my mental list of how to wake people up. A) Shake her shoulder and say 'Hello, anyone alive?', B) Scream on the top of my lungs or, C) Whack her with my soon-to-be new book. As much as I want to do the last two options, I need to be polite, for my mother's sake.

"Hello," I whispered, shaking her shoulder, "anyone alive?" She moved, but sadly did not work. Without thinking, I do that a lot except for Math and Arts; I slammed the book on the table with full force. She jumped out her seat. Literally. And fell backward in surprise. I stifled a laugh.

_Keep your chin up, _I said mentally, _she's coming up._

The dazed teen clawed her way up the table, while spreading her trash in the process. Now I got a better look at her. Her face was filled with piercings and a dragon tattoo circled around her neck like a choker. She smelled like smoke and beer. Her age, I guessed, was 18 to 20. She was the type of person who doesn't go to school, living her life in a bar, and sleeping in her part time job. Even though I'm a twelve year old, almost thirteen, and I spend my time in doing literature, I got cable and Internet and influences from school. Then the teen spoke:

"What time is it?"

"Uh . . . it's . . . ," I looked at my wrist watch, "10 am. Why?"

"I've been sleeping here for, what? Like, five hours?" she asked me with a drunk look.

"Um, I think so?"

"Okay," she said stretching her arms and rubbing her back. Then she looked at me again. "Why are you still here? Beat it, kid! My shift ends in 10 minutes!"

I felt uncomfortable at that moment but shook it off and showed her _Inkheart_.

"I want to buy this," I said. But she did not say anything, just frowning at me. Then she leaned forward from behind the counter towards me, inches away from my face.

"Where are your parents then, girly? Or are you a little orphan who stole cash just to buy something to read," the girl said in a mocking tone, leaning a little closer, "if she can read?"

Those words made me crack my patience. "Listen," I said, with a bit of anger in my tone, "my mom is just in Starbucks meeting some people. She told me I could buy this book without her. So could I get it now so we could get this over with."

"Wait a minute. I'm not finished with you yet. I have one last question."

"Shoot," I shouted.

She poked my nose in each syllable of that irritating sentence. "Where is your dad?"

* * *

I woke up in the floor of the book shop because of the weird buzzing in my ear. I saw the books and shelves were scattered on the floor. _What happened here?_, I thought. Then I remembered the tattooed teen who asked about my father. I felt my anger swell up inside, but it was timid. Wonder why. I checked my surroundings but my eyesight hasn't cleared up. I heard something behind me. I turned around and saw the cashier girl was unconscious on the counter. She was covered in blood.

O.M.G.

I needed help to help her, _fast_. But the bookshop was strangely dark. The doors were shut, the curtains covered the windows and the whole place was filled with shadows. I couldn't see much at all. My hand landed on a thick object.

_My book._

It was covered with blood, too. I picked it up and wiped it with my hoodie. It was no good. The cover was ruined. And then I mentally face palmed, because the book was covered in plastic. I tucked my book (plastic still on) with one hand and stood up with the other. I went over to the injured person and checked if she had a pulse. But to my dismay, she was long gone.

I started to sob. _Who could have done such a thing?_ I looked into her eyes, they're dark brown like mine. I was too scared to look at them more so I closed both of her eyelids.

I heard a siren from the outside. The police is here and I'm in so much trouble. If I go out in the open, I'll get arrested for maybe murder. But I didn't do anything, did I?

"Open up. This the police. Surrender."

_Ya, right, officer dude_. I went out the back door and break into a run. Someone spotted me because I heard someone say "There he goes." I wanted to yell "I'm not a he, I'm a she!" but I was to busy running for my freedom.

I went to alleys. My mother always told me to stay out of the alleys because there was some 'bad people' inside. I never really cared. I could here gunshots from behind me and by some miracle they keep missing.

Then an arm grab me. I was going to punch the person who owned the arm when his other hand flew to my mouth and dragged me into a dark corner. The person smelled like he wears those fancy perfumes.

"Shh. They will pass. I know who you are, Gabrielle. We have to hurry and go to your home before any one else spotted us," he whispered. He had a British accent

I don't know who he is, but I would take chances with him rather than the cops. I saw them pass us, hidden in the shadows. After they left, he dragged me again running to the street of my apartment. Now I saw him clearly. He has jet black hair and light brown skin. He put hood on when we came out of the alley. I followed his example.

"Thanks for saving me back there," I panted. "What's your name, _assassin_?"

He turned. Now I saw his whole face. He has a goofy smile and his jade green eyes are twinkling with excitement.

"Mike. Mike Cahill."

And rain tumble down, over our crowns.

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**A/N: Please review. I need critics.**


	2. Chapter 2: The 2nd Dweeb

**A/N: Sorry, I didn't update so soon. It's because of school work and stuff.**

**I do not own anything you have seen or read in real life. That's all!**

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**Chapter 2: The 2nd Dweeb**

The rain outside did not ruin my concentration. I was meditating in a cross-leg posture on the same coach where Miss Nears transported us to New York, the _other _New York. Having nostalgic thoughts about our adventure from the past month, I saw mental image of a girl in a dark cloak holding a black dagger. She was chanting in a lost, but familiar by my experience, language. Then she looked straight into my eyes and grinned wickedly. I'm not afraid of you, I thought, facing the girl with trembling hands. And then, she aimed for my chest and strikes. I opened my jade eyes in surprise, waking from my meditation, and saw two feminine pairs of them were staring at me, one was equally colored as mine and the other one was dark as the blade in my vision.

"Hello there. May I ask why you two lovely ladies are interrupting my rest?" I said calmly.

Jade Roberts, my pain-in-the-neck cousin, snorted at my question. "We were just watching your eyelids twitch. Do you know that when your eye twitches, it means you're in deep thought? So what were you thinking about? Were thinking about Gabby over here?" She snickered, eyeing between me and the girl beside her.

I frowned at my obnoxious cousin while our friend Gabby, or Gabrielle, the title she wants her to be called as, though I prefer to call her Gabby when she is far from hearing range; was blushing crimson red. I looked into the wall mirror beside to see if I was turning into the same shade. Alas, 'twas garnet.

"Um," Gabby muttered, "I'm just going to see if dinner is ready." And with that, she stood up and headed for the kitchen where her mother, Miss Nears, was making a birthday cake for both me and my cousin, who are turning 15 and 13, respectively.

"There goes your chance with that girl." She smirked. "You were thinking about her, weren't you, dweeb?" Jade said. She was so exasperating sometimes, with her short spiky dirty blond-pink hair and her Madrigal degree of Cover Operations. I've always questioned my mother and father how I'm related to that lame-excuse-for-a-top-agent, but several crises in the past proved I am related to Jade Danielle Roberts. How depressing is my life.

"No," I said in a low hiss, "I was thinking about Ellie, not her, Jade." Suddenly, the color of her face drained but after a few seconds she regained her composure. I chose my words carefully and made sure there was an emphasis when I said _Ellie, not her. _

"C'mon, Mike. Lighten up. Ellie is gone for good in who-knows-where. We're back in our own realm," Jade reassured, patting my back in a very harsh way, "on our birthday. So whatever bad vibes you have in that big-headed brain of yours, just chill!"

"Please Mom. Could you read the book from the start again?" I heard Gabby pleading to Miss Nears from the kitchen door about an old favorite of my Mum and me, _Inkheart_ by the departed author Cornelia Funke.

"I thought those glasses from Camp Half-Blood could help you read now," Miss Nears said, putting icing on our cake.

"Yes, I could read now but I miss your voice, Mom. It's been over a month since I've heard your voice reading a story to me." She did a smolder to add more effect on the begging. Now add a small whimper and that will break the ice.

Miss Nears threw up her arms in defeat. "Alright, I'll read it," she said, crossing her arms in regret, "but first we must celebrate a birthday with two very special cousins." She approached Jade and crushed her in a bear hug, pulling me in after a few seconds later. I could hear some giggles.

_Gabby is amused by my humiliation, _I thought. _I'll have my vengeance on her someday_.

* * *

The party was fun. Well, fun for Jade because of her comical prank on me with a piece of cake. (She's going to pay for my custom-made Armani suit!) And now we were all seated down on the long coach in the living room for the reading. I was on the sitting on the left side, Jade on the right, and Gabby in the middle. Miss Nears was sitting across us, now wearing purple-silver amulet and clutching a red covered book. When she started reading, my mind just drifted off, though I could still hear her voice. The last thing I saw was the faces of my companions beside me, who seemed to be in a phase similar to mine.

I opened my eyes and saw the back of my parents' big mansion in London ahead of me, getting closer and closer by the second. I looked down and realized I was riding my black stallion, Farid. The rest of the scenery was a wide field. People will question why I have a large backyard, mostly my friends in school, but the field has been very useful in many ways that ordinary people cannot comprehend.

_I'm having a flashback. Brilliant,_ I thought sarcastically. _ Just great. I remember this setting, early summer day. I was still 12 years-old. It's the day when I met—_

"'Gain way! Coming through!" A girl's voice yelled from behind me. I stopped Farid and turned around to get mud on my face.

"Oops! Sorry about that," the American girl about 10 years old said, climbing out of her dirt bike. She was wearing a no safety equipment, just a ripped T-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. She had short spiky blonde hair with pink-colored bangs, and shinning jade green eyes. I took out my handkerchief and scrapped the dirt out of my face, occasionally spitting grass in the process.

"And who may you be?" I asked, clearly not amused that this girl is in my family's property.

"Chill, dude. I'm a Cahill," she said, like she read my mind. "The name's Jade. Jade Roberts." She held out her mud covered hand to shake mine. I touched her palm only with my thumb and index finger.

"How do I know for sure that you're a Cahill?" I said, studying her intently. She smirked at me, which could have a given my father a run for his fortune. Then she leaned to my side and whispered something very secret that only agents with a top ranking are warned about this nasty statement, but not as nasty as the Vespers. I shivered after she finished.

"The entire stench description of the Tomas' gym clothes," I muttered, feeling a bit queasy.

"Now, do you believe me?" Jade asked, still smirking.

"100 percent," I said, trying not to puke, but failing miserably as I smelled the mud in my hands. "My name is Michael Cahill," I swallowed.

"Your last name is Cahill?" she asked, raising a brow. I nodded, gesturing her to come inside the mansion. She smiled at me and ran ahead. It was very tiring to run after a girl with untapped energy.

"My mother is Madrigal. Madrigal children take their mothers' maiden name to show support to our founder, Madeleine Cahill," I explained, opening the doors for her. Jade gaped at me inappropriately.

"You're a Madrigal?" she asked, like it's the most incredulous idea in the entire Cahill family. I presume she is a Madrigal, as well. We stopped walking in the hallway.

"Of course I am. In fact, my mother is the branch leader of the Madrigals," I boasted, thinking that this cousin will adore his high rank. Instead, she was fuming with anger.

"That's a lie. My dad's the head of the Madrigal branch," she yelled, standing on her toes, trying to intimidate me. The nerve of this girl, thinks she's more superior than me.

"How's that possible? There's only one branch leader in the Madrigals, other than my father but that he and his sister are leaders of the Lucians so he doesn't count," I snapped.

"Then what's your mom's name then?" she snapped back.

"Her name is Amy Cahill," I yelled, my voice echoing. She gasped and shook her head with a confused expression. She looked like she had seen a specter.

"T-that's i-impossible," she stammered, her anger blown with the summer wind. "F-father said she was d-dead."

"Who is your father?" I asked, getting a bit curious about the so-called-branch-leader. It took a minute for Jade to finally get herself under control. She looked at me with transparent eyes.

"Dan Cahill. He is the brother of your mom." Then she muttered something about lies and dweebs.

I was silent, thinking about any evidence linking to Jade's statement, if it was true. My mother never had any pictures of her family, so don't know if she did have a brother. Her parents died in a fire caused by my father's parents, but it was long forgotten. Grandmother's died in jail 5 years ago and Grandfather is in hiding, presumed to be dead, on a cheerful note. Mother and Father always go on a business trip every year for unknown reason. Mother gets these strange calls using a secret language when talking on the phone for security purposes. During August, she mostly feels depressed, from her frowns and distant stares. Father often talks to man covered in black, proven from video cameras and bugs. He receives 3 packages on the 13th the day of every month from a so-called sponsor for the Kabra's Art Dealership.

Yes. I spy on my parents. Don't we all?

"My mother doesn't have a brother. She told me everything about her past, including the Clue Hunt."

Jade rolled her eyes, frowning. "Who do you think helped your mom in the Clue Hunt then?"

"Nellie Gomez," I said, shuddering at the image of my mother's former au pair and guardian.

"And also Dan Cahill! Look at this," she said, rummaging through her backpack, "I have a picture of all the Clue hunters in the Ancestral Home of the Cahills, Ireland." She shoved the picture to my face. After peeling the picture off my face, I examined the new evidence.

The picture's background was a cliff and tall grass with some old tombstones. From the back row, a brawny family of five with matching purple tracking suits were looking very battered, mostly the one in the middle who was Uncle Hamilton, but they're all smiles and grins.

The middle row was a bit crowded. It was composed of (from left to right) a bald man with a pointed nose and a brief case (deceased William McIntyre), a man dressed in dark gray (deceased great-great Uncle Fiske), a girl in a black cover operation suit with auburn hair with two identical boys (the Starlings), an old man with diamond-tipped cane (deceased Alistair Oh), and a teenage boy wearing wrinkled clothes and shinny gangster jewelry (Uncle Jonah) with his African-American father.

The last row of people was crouching on the grass. It's composed of (from right to left) a young girl with cinnamon-colored skin and jet black hair with a designer dress and a bleeding foot (Aunt Natalie), a boy who looks just like me except for the eyes (Father, of course), a girl with reddish-brown hair and jade green eyes (Mother) was being chocked—no, hugged to death by a woman with blond-black hair with piercings (Miss Nellie) and beside her was a young boy with dark blond hair and jade green eyes, who was equally hugged by the crazed au pair. I could not believe my eyes, and Jade's eyes, as a matter of fact.

"I . . . I don't know what to say," I mumbled, still staring at the old photo then slowly raising his head to Jade's direction. She was still frowning, her arms crossed.

"Maybe you could say you're sorry. That might be a start," she said. I let out a remorseful breath.

"I'm sorry," I sincerely told her, not sure if she believed it. After a minute of disturbing silence, she smirked. I smiled anxiously.

"You're forgiven, my dear cousin," she said, imitating my silky British accent. She must have a gift of accents because her imitation was top notch. Then, something occurred to me.

"What are you doing here, Jade?" I asked.

She looked at me as if I was a lunatic. "I'm here because you let me in, remember?"

"No," I shook my head, feeling dismay. "What's the reason you came to this my mansion?"

"Oh," she said, taking out a new high-tech GPS phone from her pack. "My dad gave this to me a month ago before he went into hiding again. He called me awhile ago, saying I should follow these coordinates. He had something to give me here."

"Mum and Dad are not home yet from their trip, so I don't see how it's possible for Uncle Daniel could get in here," I said, scrutinizing her cell phone. Jade made a witty face.

"His name is Dan, Mike," she giggled, shaking her head in counterfeit despair. "I told Dad he would always be called Daniel, but he never listened."

"Very amusing," I said, concentrated at the gadget than her statement. The GPS was leading her to the Cahill file room. It's time to investigate.

"We have to go to the file room, Jade." I walked ahead, seeing that she's still chatting about. She noticed me leaving her behind and she quickly catches up, copying my walking pace.

"Oh," I said, remembering something from her constant speaking. "My name is Michael, not Mike."

"So? I'm calling you Mike. Every cousin needs a pet name or do you want me to call you a dweeb," she said cheerfully. I sighed, as she messed up my combed and sleek hair.

And that was the start of a messed-up friendship.

* * *

The file room was transferred to the Mum's Madrigal base, which was deeply under the mansion so we had to take the elevator. After scanning my thumb and eye, and saying "Michael Isaac Cahill" for voice identification, we slowly descended to one of the most top-notch security Madrigal bases in this world. Jade and I decided to exchange information about each other to fill the gap of descent.

She and I surprisingly share the same birthday, specifically two years apart. Her mother is a Tomas agent called Kim Roberts, an American-Japanese double agent, who was introduced by her second -cousin Uncle Hamilton Holt. She died in a mission when Jade was 6-years old, and the rest of her life she lived in a boarding school called Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women*** **and stayed with Hamilton Holt's family. Uncle Daniel (I'm love calling my new uncle "Daniel" because it's very catchy) visits Jade once a year, but it does not bother her to any further extent. Then, she filled me in about my mother's past, ever single detail. How my mother stutters when she's around father when they were young or how the Cahill siblings challenge each other with mind games and puzzles or why Uncle Daniel still wears Pokémon underwear, though he was over 25.

After she told me what I wanted to know, I told her I was a rich, smart, and handsome young man with a bright future. She punched me on the shoulder after I said that.

"That hurts badly," I grunted, rubbing the sore spot.

"You deserve it. Like that's the real you, Mike," she said. "Come on, tell me your story." She grabbed the same shoulder she punched and shook me violently. The Holts have trained her well. Once she stopped shaking me, I collapsed on the floor. Conveniently, the elevator door slid open and she darted out, leaving me to fend for myself.

"This is so cool!" I heard my cousin's voice echoed through the 500 feet tall and 700 feet wide walls. After checking my balance and cleaning myself, I searched for my curious and irritating companion.

Though I have been here countless times, Mum's base never ceases to amaze me. The whole space was divided into five parts: the elevator door opens into the Madrigal assembly room, where all of the branch leaders plan their tactics to fight the secretive enemy which has been trying to steal the clues since Gideon Cahill's death, The Vespers; there's only one door in the Madrigal room, with the exception of the elevator, and it leads to the Janus Studio, where the artistic bunch paint abstract, compose music, practice sword fights, etc.; next to the studio was the Tomas Workout Gym, where they do . . . their thing; after that we enter the Ekaterina Lab (WARNING: Do not enter the Ekat Area without a radiation suit, a gun, and snacks; then we finally reach the end of the lab, leading to the Lucian data base where we keep all of the branches files, including the Madrigals.

I have to give my cousin credit; she has proven her point of being the best agent CoveOps, I could not find her anywhere. Then I heard a squeal farther down the hall. I ran there to see what the problem is when suddenly I was tackled by a familiar cousin.

"DUUUUUUUDDDEEEEEE, long time no see," said the son of Jonah Wizard, who was on top of me. I pushed him away, not amused by the position we were just in.

"Hello, William. Good to see you too," I said, looking over his shoulder to find more family members grinning wildly at me and the actor's situation. Though this is just a flash back, I do not want to, mentally and physically, relive this moment again. I stood up to greet my cousins with the Jade's help. After some "heys", "hellos", and "barks" (they brought their pit bull), I asked them what was going on.

"We received GPS phones from our parents. They said to follow the signal, so we did. We sneaked past you guys while you were still talking," Mandy Holt the daughter of Uncle Hamilton said, fiddling with her GPS. Everyone nodded with confused looks.

"Where are our parents?" cousins Penelope and Anthony Diable the twin daughter and son of Natalie Kabra yelled from behind the group simultaneously. Suddenly, the lights closed and a green mist was slowly coming out of nowhere. I laughed in hysterically inside my head at the thought of reliving our parents' surprise and mission.

"What's happening?" cried a distressed Mary, the eldest Starling out of the four children of Ned. I felt a breath over my right shoulder. I turned around to find a black hooded-cloak figure, staring at me with cold eyes.

"Ayyyyyiiiieeeeee~!"

No one ever found out but I was the one who screamed like a girl. I think my parents knew, but they had no hint of showing it. So there we are, surrounded by dark figures. It visibly reminded me of an old novel called _Harry Potter_'s Death Eaters, surrounding Harry in the cemetery. Cliché, isn't?

All of my cousins were scared out of their wits, except for Jade, sadly. She seemed to be amused by the scene.

"Dad," she shouted with a few giggles, "stop the theatrics. Could you and the uncles and aunts take those nasty cloaks off? Black still doesn't fit your style, as I've said many times."

Then the lights turned on and the Clue hunters revealed themselves, including my parents and excluding one behind them. Jade approached the cloaked man and took off his hood, and then I gasped. Twas the same man in black I've seen talking to my father a few years back. Tears were emerging from Jade's jade eyes when she said, "Hi, Daddy."

The man in black was taken back a bit from what she said, and afterward he knelt in front of her, took off his black hat and smiled. He looked unchanged since he was eleven, except for some physical attributes and facial hair.

"Konnichi wa, hisui!******," he said, hugging her tightly. Then, my mother tapped his shoulder saying "That's enough, Dan. It's time to explain to the children why they're here." He raised his head to my Mum and put on a goofy face, he turned his attention back to his daughter and kissed her on the forehead.

"All for one, and one for all," I heard him whisper. He stood up and walked beside my mother. He clapped to bring all of the Cahill's attention to him.

"Welcome, young Cahills. I could see from your scared faces that you're wondering what you're doing here, am I right?" The adolescences nodded slowly.

"You're here," my father announced, "because the world needs the new generation of Cahills. We're here to train for the next two years with all the branches techniques. Afterward, you are sent out to track inactive Cahill families around the world. Alone."

"What's this all about, Dad?" William said to African-American man in a blue suit. The man ruffled his son's brown hair.

"To save the world, Will. We need all the help we could get to fight the big man."

A muscular man in a purple track suit stepped out and said, "It's our duty to unite the Cahills using the younger generation. We wouldn't want to lose our families to—" His lip quivered and he started to bawl. An auburn haired woman, his wife, walked over to him.

"Don't worry about Madison, Ham," Sinead Holt said, patting carefully Uncle Hamilton's back. "Though she changed sides, I know she still loves you." She hugged him tightly while he resisted to cry in front of his daughter. Even my mother's face became grief-stricken.

"This why we need you all here," Uncle Daniel said, "to prevent the Cahills from changing sides to the Vespers. And today is the start of your training. Are you ready?" He looked straight at me with a cold shoulder.

I swallowed all my fear. "I'm ready!" Strangely, we all said it in chorus.

Then, my vision changed to an airport scenery. Jade and I were rolling our luggage to the exit. Even from the inside, I could smell the pollution this city has caused.

Once we were outside, 12-year old Jade dropped her duffel bags and raised her arms to the sky. "Woohoo! NEW YORK!"

"Stop goofing around, Jade," I said, shading myself from the sun. "We're on a mission. Be serious, for once."

"Look who's talking, dweeb," she laughed, putting on her jacket hood. "You were peed your pants off when Uncle Ian gave you your first mission here in NY, but I on the other hand had loads of experiences here in this beautiful city, which is classified info." She pointed at me accusingly.

"Anyways," I said, taking out my GPS phone. "We have to meet Coraline Nears, a Janus operative, in a Starbucks' restaurant in an hour. Let's go!"

* * *

"Hello, dearies. What brings you here?" Coraline cooed, as Jade order us some food.

"Well, Miss Nears, straight to the point. We're here to recruit your daughter, Gabrielle, for training in the family business," I said with an emotionless expression.

"How are your parents, Mike?" she said, not paying attention to what I'm saying but to the police cars passing by.

"They're fine, Miss Nears but back to the matters at hand. After we talk to her, we need to train her in an undisclosed area close by. Do you know, by any chance, anywhere available to our standards?" Miss Nears wasn't listening at all.

"Oh no," she muttered, standing up from the table. I gave her a questioning look.

"I shouldn't have left her alone," she kept muttering, heading towards the door. "I have to save her!"

I blocked her path. "What's happening? What's wrong?" I asked, staring intently at the mother.

"Gabby," she said, "she's in trouble."

"How do you know?" Jade asked, appearing behind her with coffee and snacks.

"I just know," was all she said before she broke into a run. And of course, we ran after her.

"Wait," I said, panting, "I'll get her for you. Where is she?"

"Gabby is in the bookstore three blocks from here," she answered. Then, she grabbed my shoulders and said, "And please do not anger her."

Reluctantly, I nodded and after that I climbed up a building and showed off my parkour moves. The clouds were building up into a cumulonimbus form.

I'm forecasting that rain will come down any minute now.

* * *

**A/N: So they're you have it, the 2nd chapter.**

*** From the book Gallagher Girls.**

**** Hello, Jade!**


	3. Chapter 3: The Odd Friendship Has Begun

**A/N: I hope this fanfic gets more viewers or I'll delete this. I'm foreshadowing events, if you haven't noticed. Ah, well, it's time for Jade's point of view.**

**I do not own anything you've seen or read in real life. That's all!**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Odd Friendship Has Begun**

_This is the last straw. _

_Literally, _I thought, throwing the wet, sticky, red bendy-straw inside the waste bin. We just finished cleaning up the living room of the Nears' family where we had the messiest birthday party this year (the Holts' birthdays are gruesome every year, take my word for it). Mike was in the bathroom, obviously changing his suit because of the cake incident, while Gabby and I were sitting on the coach, waiting for my air-headed cousin to show up. And while he's away, it's time for the daily girl-talk.

"Gabby, com—"

"My name is Gabrielle," she said in a slightly harsh tone. I flinched, feeling a bit silly to be scared of a girl who looks so innocent. It's because I remembered that horrible day she showed her true colors . . . I shook my head, pushing the thought to the back of my mind.

Then, a sly smile crawled up my lips."Whatever. Now come on, admit it. You like Mike Cahill and don't deny it!" I said, pointing at her accusingly. As quick as lightning, she clapped her hand over my mouth and placed her index finger to her lips.

"Don't talk so loud, Jade," she whispered, glancing left and right. "He might hear you."

"Aha!" I quietly yelled, taking her hand off of my mouth. "You do like him. Why don't you tell him how you feel?" I coaxed. Then, she gave me a poker face. Seriously, that girl is creepy. She picked up the _Inkheart_ book from the coffee table beside her and slowly flipped through random pages, her dark eyes drifting in the distance and her black hair falling on her shoulders when she took of her ponytail.

"Yes, I do like him. Like him, like him," she mumbled, turning to me with puppy-dog eyes and then back at the pages. "But what if he doesn't like me the way I like him?"

I shook my head in amusement. She's so naïve sometimes, not realizing what's in front of her. She doesn't see how Mike looks at her when she reads or when she chows down a Big Mac with no remaining ketchup in her face or when she gets a tantrum fit. It was nothing but the same expression, fondness.

"Don't be silly. Maybe he feels the same way," I said. If it was possible for daughter of a god, a certain god of great power who knows something about misery, to get even more miserable than she usual was, Gabby Nears is the one to win its gold medal.

"That's what I'm worried about," she cried, burying her head in her hands. "I'm _still _worried about him and _you _hanging out with me. Both of you might get h-hurt like the las-st time if I ever lose my temper."

That's when I stayed silent, thinking about that 'last time', making me shiver from that chilling image. After shaking of the bad vibes, I glanced back at my distant cousin, noting her pained expression on her face. From the look on her face, saying that last sentencemust've hurt inside like hundreds of arrows piercing through your skin, and I know because I made a similar face when it happened to me. But that is out of topic.

I patted her back, which (thankfully) added physical pain rather than emotional. "Lighten up! Sheesh, you act like Mike's mom when there's no book to read in her huge library. The most important thing right now is that we're back home, in our world."

"But," she said, staring back at the book again, "I wished I could've stayed, with Chiron, with the campers, even with Leroy and Dylan." We silently giggled, thinking about the two demigods Gabby had a crush on while she was in Camp Half-blood. Again, she is ignorant; she never notices how Mike looks at those two when she turns her back; it looks like the three of them have an all out war, for love. Aphrodite must've have been pleased with the outcome.

Before I could reply to her ridiculous statement, Mike came in the living room with a new, custom-made (typical Kabra)white polo with a Cahill coat of arms embroidered in black on the left side, cotton black pants, and matching loafers. I mentally saved the look on Gabby's face when my cousin arrived. Her cheeks were burning red. I just snorted at Mike's direction, receiving a scowl in return. Why does every girl he meets go lovey-dovey over him? He's not that charming, in my opinion, but he's not half bad as my cousin. At least he doesn't embarrass me like Will Wiz.

"What are you lovely ladies talking about here?" he asked, smiling at Gabby, who was fiddling with the paper in her book; trying to avoid his gaze.

"Oh, nothing really. Girl stuff, that's all," I smirked at him. Though I'm not a child of a Kabra (again, thankfully), I'm a champion of annoying people with my sassy smirk, as my Dad used to call it. I sighed, wondering where he is in that stupid mission he took two months ago.

"Hello? My stupid American git of a cousin, are you in there?"

I blinked, and saw Mike waving his hand at me like crazy idiot. My head wandered off again. I really should stop doing that in front of company. And did the prat just call me a git?

Leaning forward to him, making my cousin stager, I said in my best British accent, "Stop waving your hands like that, you prat. The Yanks outside might mistake you for a mad man."

Then, a legendary Cahill argument commenced, with a peace maker and her mother standing in the sidelines, watching us scream our heads off with insults until it was terminated by the sound of thunder. I got scared for a bit, thinking that lightning will strike the apartment any second. Then, I scratched my head violently in frustration, recalling that I'm not in that weird place anymore.

"Well," Miss Nears established, holding _Inkheart_ gingerly, "I think we had enough excitement for one afternoon, so we better start reading. Don't you think, dearies?"

I looked at Mike, he looked at me, and we turned back our attention to Miss Nears, not noticing we shrugged at the same time. If you first saw Mike and me for the first time, you would think we're siblings, sometimes twins because of our eyes and height. We have nothing in common, if you look at our age, interests and life style in a close inspection. But whenever we need some help, we can always count on each other. Even my Dad said that we remind him of him and Amy back in the Clue hunting days. And from that day on, I was determined to annoy my cousin as my Dad annoyed his sister.

So we sat down, me on the right, Gabby on my left, and Mike on the far left of the sofa. I elbowed Gabby, and she jarred in surprise. She pouted at me but I just winked at her. My jade eyes were gesturing to Mike, who was staring out the window, away from us girls. Gabby stuck her tongue out while blushing furiously.

I smirked to myself. _When will she learn . . ._

* * *

_Cool, I'm having a flashback. So where am I?_

I saw nothing but pitch black. I heard a soft click and a dim light shimmered in the distance. An old man was laying four-poster bed and standing beside him was a man carryinganinfant and a woman slightly taller than him. I realized it was just my Dad (before he turned into the man in black), me as a year old baby, and Aunt Amy, during Uncle Fiske's deathbed. I was watching them from the distance, like I was a god or something like that. And surprisingly, I still remember what they said.

"—proud of the two of you. Both of you have accomplished things that were impossible for the rest of the branch." Great-great Uncle Fiske coughed in a hoarse tone. And though the mood in the room was very grim, I had to giggle at the sight my younger, terrified self. One glance at Uncle Fiske, and my baby self started to cry.

Was I really scared of my Uncle? He doesn't look bad, except for all the wrinkles, white hair, raspy voice, obsession with the color black . . . Yup, he's definitely scary!

"Dan, why didn't you leave her with Nellie?" Aunt Amy said, wiping her eyes. "She's wasting our time. We only have a few minutes before—" Aunt Amy burst into tears and was comforted by pat from good ol' Dad.

Then, I heard a crash. Dad and Aunt Amy rushed outside to investigate. Uncle Ian and my mother were fighting a cloaked man with some dangerous arsenal in the hallway. The Cahill siblings rushed to battle with their spouses, leaving my younger self beside a coffee-skinned two year old boy. The boy was Mike and he seemed to be scared as I was, from the look on his face and how tight he was chugging the teddy bear.

Then, someone or _something _grabbed the two children from behind them, and carried them off. Baby-me was crying hysterically. And as I watched, from a bird's eye view, the person escape without hesitation, my body was enveloped by darkness. The last thing I saw was the boy, clawing his way out of the steel grip, dropping his teddy bear in the process.

* * *

I opened my eyes and saw my oh-so-perfect cousin, Mike, running off with his throwing knives at his side, just in case if there's trouble. Beside me was a very worried Miss Nears, watching my cousin climb up the fruit store's window to the rooftop of the building. Today must be the day when we're supposed to recruit Gabby.

"Your daughter will be safe with us, Miss Nears," I said, receiving a sniff as a positive reply. I smiled at the widow, feeling confident that retrieve-and-return mission will be completely successful.

_I really have to stop jinxing myself._

"Well, we can't wait here all day long for them. Where's your house?" I asked, taking out my GPS phone I got from Dad. "You live in the lines of West 30th street, right?"

She gave me no answer this time, not even a slight movement. I frowned at the thought of her dark past. Dad never told me about the details but he said, and I quote: "She was a very complicated cousin, with problems and powers you cannot imagine, but others in the past can. She was very gifted, indeed as a Janus, but very unstable when power is in arms reach. In the end, she made the right choice."

I had some theories about what her past must be. Was she a double-agent for the Vespers? Did she murder someone for the good of the Cahills? Could she and Jonah Wizard be that mysterious couple back in the day? Who was her daughter's biological father? I wasn't sure really, but I was determined to find out.

"Well," I said uneasily, "let's see your place."

* * *

The Nears residence was _tiny._ Not an exaggeration. And it was unorganized.

As I stepped into the quarters, I tripped and fell face down. I saw that I tripped on a recently used painting canvas, so the lower part of my body was practically covered in paint. And they were original designer shorts from Aunt Natalie for my 12th Birthday. My coffee spilled all over the floor. Perfectly good coffee wasted.

I read in Coraline Nears' files that she's an art teacher for Aaron Academy. Her daughter, Gabrielle, attends to that school because her problems like ADHD and dyslexia and maybe for learning the arts. They are Janus after all.

"Oh, dear," Miss Nears cried, coming in the doorway, "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't get a chance to clean up and—"

Miss Nears tripped, as well. It was a very funny image, to be very honest.

I got to my feet a little while later, after the paint on my shorts dried, which took about 4 to 5 minutes. And as if on cue, Mike burst into the room with a girl about my age, maybe younger. I guessed she was Gabrielle Nears, the young Janus girl we are recruiting. I purposely fell back down to the floor.

"Um, did I miss anything?" she nervously said, helping her mother up. Mike helped me up, and making groaning sounds because I'm not making any effort to stand up. When I could finally stand, Mike pushed me into the coach.

"Dear cousin, you should really lose some weight. It's not good for your figure," he smiled. Every time I get him to pick up after me, he does something unoriginal to me and teases me about it. All I did was give him a glare, and he stay away from my back for an hour or so.

"So," Gabrielle said, looking at me up and down, "this is your cousin. She doesn't look like a delinquent."

"Gabby! Don't say such things. Very rude," her mother chided.

"Mike told me she was a delinquent. And please, Mom, don't call me Gabby in front of them," the girl said, giving a fleeting look at her rescuer.

"I'm a what?" I asked, glaring at my cousin. Mike just whistled innocently before catching my eye. He placed his hand on his chest then pretended to look offended. Then, gasping to add more effect.

"You don't think I told her that ridiculous notion, Jade?"

"Well," I started, strutting up to him and poking his chest, "if the expensive clothing fits!"

He was taken back a bit and then he smiled looking down at his outfit. Under the zip-up hoodie was a custom made polo shirt with a Cahill insignia. "It does fit me at ease, in fact."

I growled and clenched my fists. I was about to punch the lights out of my cousin's pretty little face when I was blocked by the new girl. Miss Nears was nowhere to be found, probably in the other room.

"Hey, fighting is not allowed in this studio! You guys have to help me clean up this mess with me or else," Gabrielle warned, her tone was deadly serious. She was holding up two brooms to each of us. Strangely, we stopped bickering.

In family visits for the past two years, Mike and I always fight about some little disagreement. Not that I'm complaining. I love arguing with Mike; it was my favorite pastime. It generally took 10 Cahills to get me to stop fighting with my cousin or our parents if they're around. How was it possible that a simple girl who has no Cahill training experience could stop a legendary fight like theirs?

_Because she's powerful, _I answered, listening to my thoughts during that event.

"Alright," Mike said, taking a broom, "I'll help." He turned

"Thank you," Gabrielle said, smiling at him. She turned back to me and offered me the other broom. "What about you? Care to help?"

I raised an eyebrow at her and the broom. "I'll help, if you make me a chocolate sundae," I said sarcastically.

"Okay," she beamed, handing the broom to me and rushing to the next room and slamming the door behind her. "Mom, let's make a chocolate sundaes for the guests!" I heard her yell from the other side.

Mike, who was listening on our conversation while tidying up, snorted. "She's diverse, isn't she?"

"Tell me about it," I said, picking up the canvas from the floor. "Why do we have to clean up again?"

Michael rolled his eyes. "It's because she's making us sundaes, of course."

Then, the girl popped her head inside the room and asked, "Hey, what's your name? Your cousin Mike never told me. And sorry again, Mike, for calling you an assassin. Your image just reminds me of an assassin, no offense. "

"Non-taken," my cousin replied before adding under his breath, "'cause I ironically am related to assassins."

"So, your name?" she asked again.

I ran my fingers through my tousled blonde-pink hair. "Roberts. Jade Roberts."

"James Bond's style," she smirked. "I like it. My mom said that we have to get to know each other first before we get to talk about why you two came here for. Is that okay with you two?"

"Yeah," we simultaneously answered.

Gabrielle giggled. "Are you sure you two are cousins, not siblings?"

"Yes," we both insisted.

"Weird," she concluded, before disappearing into the kitchen.

I looked at my cousin and smiled. "Weird, indeed."

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**A/N: Review, pretty please!**


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